cherry lips
by Samlie
Summary: Austin contemplates whether staring at his best friend's legs and feeling like he wanted an ice cream cone was natural. — auslly. potential two-shot.
**I wrote a lil drabble. I don't know what this is. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

He watches her swirl her tongue over the edge.

Her eyes are dark, her mouth around it. She pops it out of her mouth and he almost groans when she slowly lets her pink tongue slide from the base all the way to the tip.

He can't help but stare at her cherry lips in the heat. They're pink and plump and closed around it.

It's hot. The temperature's already above eighty degrees, but on top of that, she's gotta do this to him? He's already sweating.

She pops it out of her mouth, the sound is torture to his ears. She eyes it, then closes her lips around it again, tongue working around it. And he swears he's going to _burst_ if she did that one more time.

Her lips take on a cherry-red colour as she sucks harder. Her mouth puckers and he imagines her tongue swirling around and around and around. She takes a moment to breath before licking her lips, her hot little tongue going around the circumference of her mouth. She smacks her lips together.

Fuck.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, she proceeds to _slurp_ , her tongue fluttering against it. He's practically panting at this point, begging for relief.

He clenches his fists, letting out a breath. He's still watching her. And she's still fixated on it. She's plunging in and out of her mouth now, her lips shinning and pretty pink.

And suddenly, her eyes meet his.

"Are you gonna finish?" Ally asks, sitting up.

"What?" Austin replies, a little out of breath.

"Are you gonna finish?" She repeats. She motions to him. "Your popsicle."

Right.

His popsicle.

Austin had his fist clenched around the stick of a blue, fruit-flavoured popsicle. He glances at it, ready to melt in the blazing sun.

In Ally's hand sits a cherry popsicle. She's been dying to get one the entire day, the heat scorching on their skin. So they attend an ice cream shop and buy two, cherry and blue raspberry.

"Uh, yeah," Austin says, regaining his composure. He tentatively runs his tongue around the popsicle. He can practically feel his tongue turning blue.

"You gotta hurry with that," says Ally urgently. "It'll melt in this heat."

Austin bobs his head in response.

After a few seconds, he slowly lets his eyes wander back over to her. Unfortunately, Ally's finished her popsicle. She smacks her lips for the last time.

They're sitting on a bench right outside of the ice cream store. The blazing sun augment the pace of his melting popsicle.

Truth be told, Austin didn't like popsicles. Not one bit. They're slimy and artificial and sticky and just _blegh_ in general. He'd rather have gotten an ice cream cone. But Ally insisted on getting a fruity popsicle earlier. And how could he say no to those big, brown eyes, pleading for a popsicle?

So he got one. And he had no intention of finishing it.

There are no clouds in the sky. Not a single damned cloud to cover the sun, even just for a few seconds. It's too hot outside. And he's sweating.

Not to mention Ally still has the popsicle stick in her mouth, flicking it around with her tongue.

"It's too hot outside," Austin complains as he gives his popsicle another lick. He's counted how many licks he's given it. Exactly seven. No more, no less.

"Would you rather be back inside the ice cream shop?" Ally asks, the stick against her left cheek. She looks cute.

"No. I'd rather be somewhere with air conditioning and a TV," he replies. Austin debates whether or not to trash his popsicle.

"My place it is," Ally says. She stands up suddenly and he gets flashed by her long, milky legs complemented by a red skirt that matched her lips. And shit, what he wouldn't do to lick _those._

She's wearing a pretty white blouse with frills complementing the line of buttons. It's tucked into her red skirt. Her legs are endless, miles and miles of creamy white skin fitted into small, red flats.

He's suddenly craving ice cream again.

Austin contemplates whether staring at his best friend's legs and feeling like he wanted an ice cream cone was natural.

He's just wearing a simple white v-neck and jeans. Plain and simple. And he'd rather not get his white shirt stained with blue raspberry.

He follows her down the street and into the apartment complex. They ride the elevator up. At this point, he's cupping his hand under the popsicle to keep it from dripping all over the floor.

Austin and Ally are neighbours. She lives in the apartment beside him. And he's glad, too. His best friend living so near meant he's always going to have someone there for him.

And by that he meant her suite had an air conditioner and his didn't.

But what he really meant was that he had an undeniable attraction to her and he'd like to take her against every surface of his apartment. Or hers.

But for now, 'best friends' would do him justice.

She unlocks the door and the rapidly-melting popsicle is nearly a puddle in his hand.

Ally walks into the kitchen part of her apartment. She doesn't seem to notice his situation. He quickly looks for her trashcan to dump the thing and get it over with, but Ally quickly turns around once she hears him shuffling around in her kitchen. "Austin."

"Ally."

She shakes her head in disappointment. She has a carton of orange juice out on the island of the kitchen. "Austin, if you're not going to finish it, I will."

"No!" Austin exclaims. "No. It's okay. I can do it. I can finish it."

Ally gives him a glare; _really?_ "Hand it over."

"I swear," he says solemnly, bringing the melting treat to his lips. "I'll finish it. Faster than you can say my name."

He's hoping to use those words in a different context in the near future.

"Oh my god, just give it to me," she says, rolling her pretty brown eyes. "I hate to see it go to waste, give it."

"No."

He's trying his best to slurp up the melted popsicle but he just couldn't. Ally's walking over to him now. "Hand it over."

"Ally—"

" —Just give it to me."

He's frustrated. He could finish it. If she weren't pestering him all the damn time. "Jesus, hold your horses and let me _try_ ," he snaps.

"You've had the entire walk home to try," she lashes back. Ally's beside him now, prying the stick from his sticky hands.

He yanks it from her grip. He's scared for a second that he might elbow her in the face, but luckily he doesn't.

Instead, three things happen.

First, the popsicle goes flying from his hand, the blue juice splattering all over the floor. Luckily, he catches it in a hand before it splats on the floor.

Second, Austin loses his footing and stumbles. He nearly falls into a pile of cold, melting blue liquid on the floor. It's right then did he realize the air conditioner isn't on, either.

Third, Ally stumbles over his feet and falls forward, onto his chest.

A fourth thing happens, but he just couldn't recall it at the moment because suddenly her pretty, cherry-red lips were inches away from his. And he forgets how to breath.

Stupid, undeniable attraction.

He's holding the popsicle away from her, over his head, recognizing that it's now water on a stick. She's glaring at him, her body sprawled across his chest. "Give me that popsicle," Ally says, each word with more force than the last.

"No," Austin says, his voice coming out a little strained. Ally—unfortunately for him—picks up on that.

"Tired?" She teases, eyes sparkling. They complement her lips so nicely. He finds himself staring at them. Austin swallows, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

"Perfectly fine. Although you are crushing my diaphragm."

"Poor you," she pouts. Ally reaches for the popsicle, sitting up now, trying to get more leverage. Austin still keeps it out of her reach. He's smirking now, enjoying it.

That is, until she's straddling him, both hands on his taunt stomach and slowly slides backwards until her ass is nearly over his crotch. His breath hitches in his throat and he suddenly feels the need to squirm.

Ally lowers her eyes to meet his. Swallows when he feels her move ever-so slightly against his lower belly.

Why was the goddamn air conditioner not turned on?

He answers his own question. _Because something else certainly is._

Fuck his good humour.

"Austin," Ally says in a voice that's syrup-sweet. She licks her lips tauntingly, not looking at him now, but at the popsicle in his hand over his head. "Give me that popsicle."

Austin's having a dilemma. It's too fucking hot. And his pants are suddenly too fucking tight.

And _fuck_ , her lips are so _red_.

He's completely helpless against her. So he hands over the popsicle. She grins happily, taking the dripping treat from his sticky hands. He lets out a small groan. Defeat.

But the strangest thing happens. The smile falls from Ally's face. She looks at the popsicle, a bit disgusted with its state.

And then she flings it over her shoulder and it disappears somewhere behind the island.

Ally's eyes are dark now, and she lowers her eyes to meet his. "I wasn't talking about that one."

Austin swallows, his breathing growing laboured. Her hands are still on his stomach, his pants are still too tight, her ass is really nice against his lower stomach but he—

"Austin," Ally says in a low, taunting voice. She says very clearly, demanding even, "Give me that popsicle."

His breathing was so swallow now, he couldn't understand how his brain even had oxygen to function. He felt nervous and a little tingly but also incredibly _fucked._ With his stupid, undeniable attraction to her, he couldn't bear the situation any longer.

Three things happen.

First, Austin and Ally stare at each other for another four seconds.

Second, Austin gets up suddenly, startling Ally, but not for long because he scoops her up into his arms and makes his way to her bedroom.

Third, he closes the door to her bedroom. The last thing that could have been seen was a smirk on Ally's face.

Austin's stupid, he realizes. And how could he say no to those big, brown eyes, pleading for a popsicle?

So he gave her one. And she had every intention of finishing it.

* * *

 **I think I might turn this into a two-shot into the near future. Maybe. Aka, already writing it... Maybe...**

 **This idea was inspired by something that happened today. Here's how it goes. I came home. Ate a popsicle. Got this idea. Typed half of it. Ate another popsicle. And then finished it. Inspiring huh?**

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!**


End file.
